Lost Son of His
by AuburnSly
Summary: Not a Harry-Twin fic. Hermione notices smilarities between an old picture of Sirius and one of their classmates...
1. Default Chapter

A/N: I don't own anything here. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.   
  
It was over. For now at least. The Order of the Phoenix had taken down the majority of Voldemort's Death Eaters over the summer of Harry's 6th year. But with something great is not accomplished without something lost. Tonks, Charlie, Mad-Eye Moody, and Sirius were only a few that gave their lives for the Order. There was an attack on Hermione's parents, so they were sent to live at 12 Grimullad Place with the remaining members.  
  
It had been had for everyone, especially the trio. Harry was silent, refusing to talk about anything. He was a shell of his former self. Ron and Hermione were at a loss about what to do for their beloved friend. In time, they to slipped into Harry's state. It seemed that Voldemort had hit the hardest by taking away from the remaining fighters. Everyone was holding onto something that reminded them of the old life, the life before death.   
  
It was this that caused Harry to be searching in old photo albums in the forgotten attic of 12 Grimullad Place. He wanted to remember Sirius like he was before Voldemort, before Peter, and before Askaban. He flipped idly through the pages until one picture caught his hallow emerald eye. Sirius was leaning against a tree on Hogwarts grounds, the giant castle looming in the background. His arms were folded lazily across his chest while a few strands of his raven hair flew into his eyes. He was smirking at the camera, as if telling it 'I know something you don't know…'His dark eyes danced in the noon sun, making him look playful. In one swift motion, his left eye winked at the camera, causing the left side of his face to scrunch up for just a second before falling back into place.   
  
This was what Harry had been looking for. Some proof that the world was once good. He took the picture from it's album and ran his fingers lovingly over it. For the first time in months, Harry smiled. It wasn't much of one mind you, but it was enough to make him remember how it felt to be happy. And that was enough for him.   
  
~*~  
  
Weeks later, three to be exact, the trio was on the Hogwarts express. They were engaging in a conversation about who was most likely to win that years House Cup. After Harry had come down from the attic that day, he was a new person. Not completely happy, but he tried. He would start conversations at dinner instead of avoid them. He would smile instead of frown; he would laugh instead of cry. Seeing their best friend like this pulled Hermione an Ron out of their slump as well. So now they were all on their way to their last year at Hogwarts. Hermione had been made Head Girl (to no one's surprise), but the head Boy was still unknown. Dumbledore had confided in Harry that he didn't want Harry about the castle at night, so he was denied Head Boy. But Harry was determined to be his old self again, and took it in stride.   
  
"You've got to be kidding Hermione! Gryffindor is going to beat Slytherin this year, like we have before!" Ron yelled.   
  
"I'm just saying that since last year, when they got that new chaser, Zabini, they've been good," Hermione persisted.   
  
"They may be good, Mione, but we're better. Ron's gotten loads better, and so has Ginny. And if I can get Dumbledore to overwrite Umbridge's decree saying I can't play, we'll be unstoppable," Harry said in his calm tone.   
  
"Exactly," Ron concluded, folding his arms over his chest as closure.   
  
"I know that Harry. All I was saying… oh nevermind," she sighed, pulling her latest book out of her bag. Crookshanks' tail swished slightly as Hermione stroked his fur, never taking her eyes of her current page.   
  
The compartment lapsed into a comfortable silence. Hermione continued to read while Ron drifted to sleep. Harry pulled his picture of Sirius from his bag and began examining it. A yawn broke the silence, and Harry looked up to see Hermione smiling at him.   
  
"You're going to wear that out, Harry," she said, closing her book.   
  
"It's fine. I put an invincible charm on it," he answered, not moving his eyes.   
  
"What is it of? I've never got a good look at it," she said, moving across the small compartment to sit beside him.   
  
"It's Sirius. I guess he was a 7th year in this, that's Hogwarts in the background."  
  
"Wow. He looks so…young." Hermione breathed, gazing at Sirius who winked at them.   
  
"I know. Do you think…" but Harry never found out what Hermione thought, because at that moment, Draco Malfoy slid the door open. He was no longer the scrawny, pointy faced little boy he was before. He easily made 6 feet, and his platinum blonde hair fell into his cold gray eyes. His Quittich years did his lean body good, giving him muscles the girls drooled over. But despite his outward change, he was still the annoying Slytherin prat he had been since first year.   
  
"Well, well, well. Look at what we have here. Potty, Weasel, and Mudblood," his voice dripped like slime. Harry's eyes flashed dangerously, but Hermione's soft hand on his arm helped him keep his temper.   
  
"Where's your gorillas, Ferret? They finally grow a brain and leave your sorry arse behind?" Hermione's calm voice drifted to Harry's ears.  
  
"Actually Granger, I don't need them anymore. I figured by the way you were staring at me you noticed I've grown," his voice continued to sound like nails scratching against a chalkboard, despite how it had changed. Hermione's face began to tinge pink with anger.  
  
"Get out of here, Malfoy, before I make you wish you were in Askaban with your good-for-nothing father," Hermione's tone was biting, and Malfoy took a menacing step forward into the compartment. But before anything could be done, a calm voice snuck into the compartment from behind them.   
  
"Really Granger, that was below the belt," the three turned to see Blasie Zabini leaning lazily against the door frame. He was just as tall as Malfoy, maybe the size of Ron. His black hair flopped gracefully into his face while his ice blue eyes scanned the small room. Malfoy's face formed into a smirk like he had won the verbal battle. Ron, who was still asleep, kicked out a leg and hit Hermione in the knee. But Hermione didn't notice, her eyes were moving between the photo clenched in Harry's hand and the newcomer.  
  
"Get out of here Malfoy, and take your new pet with you," Harry snarled.  
  
"I'll leave, but not because you want me to. I must be getting to the head compartment. I need to see who the lucky lady that will be living with me is," and with a final sneer, he was gone.   
  
"Mione, I'm so sorry. You have to live with Malfoy for a whole year! If you ever need to stay in the common room you know that…"   
  
"Harry, stop. I'll be fine. If I can take on a Death Eater, I can take on a Death Eater's son." Harry smiled warmly at her, and she returned it. A snorting noise shook them out of their peaceful state.   
  
"W-Was that Malfoy? Oy, he's lucky I was asleep. Would have kicked his no-good, ferret faced, arse right here. Why I…"   
  
"We get the point, Ron," Hermione interrupted. Ron rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, seemingly embarrassed. "Harry, can I see your picture for a minute?"   
  
Harry extended his hand and place the photo in her hand ever so carefully. She picked it up with the same grace Harry did, and studied Sirius' face. She bit her bottom lip in concentration, running her fingers lightly over the edges. At last, she let out a sigh and handed the picture back to Harry.   
  
"What were you looking for?" Harry asked once the picture was in his pocket.   
  
"Nothing, I just… saw something… you know…" she was still chewing her bottom lip. It was clear to the other two that she hadn't been able to put her thought into words, so they let it go. "I really must be getting to the Head compartment. Can't leave Malfoy alone with all the Prefects can we?" she shot a final smile at her friends then left.   
  
"Sometimes I just don't get her," Ron mumbled before pulling out a Quidditch magazine. Harry smiled in agreement, but the wheels in his head were turning. What Hermione saw was in the picture of Sirius. He pulled it out and stared at it intently, but nothing changed. A light wind still blew, the sun still shone, and Sirius still winked every now and then. Confused about what crazy thought was bouncing around Hermione's head, Harry stuffed the picture in his pocket and made for the lavatories, grabbing his school robes on the way out. 


	2. Chapter 1

Besides the constant fights between Hermione and Malfoy, the first week of school went well. All of the professors were the same as the years before, except for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He was a stout man, with brown hair and graying patches above his ears. His nose was small, forming a slightly flat tip at the end. His name was Tom Truman, and as far as anyone could tell, he was kind and considerate. Although he was nothing like Remus Lupin, he did a fair job; not giving out to much work and letting the students try spells instead of writing them down.  
  
To Harry's surprise, there weren't many whispers of Voldemort. He came to the conclusion that people just wanted to leave that to the outside world and keep it out of Hogwarts. To them, Hogwarts was a world of it's own.   
  
It was the Saturday after the first week, and the trio was sitting at the Gryffindor table for an early breakfast. Hermione was still fuming about the fight she had with Malfoy about who was to use their adjoining bathroom first. Evidently, Hermione was there first, but Malfoy but a binding spell on her while she was brushing her teeth and pushed her back into her room. Every few minutes during breakfast, she would bite her bottom lip and make a growling noise that sounded much like her cat, Crookshanks.   
  
"Alright there, Granger?" a smooth voice came from behind Hermione and Harry. Ron, who was sitting across from them, tensed in his seat.   
  
"Thanks Zabini, but I'm fine," Hermione answered without even turning to see who it was.   
  
"If you're sure," he replied, gliding back over to the Slytherin table. Once he was seated next to Malfoy, Ron burst with rage.   
  
"Since when does Blasie Zabini ask if you're alright? He is a Slytherin, Hermione! Probably a Death Eater on top of that! Or his dad is one at least!"   
  
"He doesn't have a father, Ron. Well, he does, but not a biological father," Hermione said calmly. It was a surprise to Harry that she hadn't smacked Ron the second he opened his mouth. She was already in a bad mood, and Ron was stacking bricks onto a leaning tower.   
  
"And why do you know this? Oh Gods Hermione! Don't tell me you actually talked to the guy!"   
  
"No, I didn't. There are other ways of getting information. Some of the perks of being Head Girl," Hermione smiled a mysterious smile that envied the smile she gave them in their fourth year, after she had her teeth shrunken by Madame Pomfrey. "You see, there is a filing system for the school. Well, it's sort of a filing system. Anyway, you just say the password, tap the box with your wand, say the name you want, then a file comes up. Everything you ever wanted to know is in that folder. I suppose it goes to ministry after that person graduates, but while you're here, it is to."  
  
"That still doesn't explain why you were looking at Zabini's file," Ron sulked. Harry nodded in agreement.   
  
"I'll tell you when I have everything I need. It shouldn't take much longer," her eyes moved between the two, her voice hushed.   
  
"But Hermione, you can tell us," Harry persisted. He felt left out not knowing what Hermione was up to, but then again, so did Ron.   
  
"I promise I'll tell you Harry. You too Ron. I just need to make sure I know my hypothesis is true," she reached under the table and touched Harry's hand lightly. An odd feeling jumped through Harry when she did this. The feeling was not foreign, but unexpected.  
  
"As long as you fill us in the second you can," Ron said sternly. Hermione nodded to him then stood from her place, pulling her hand away from Harry's.   
  
"I've got to get to the library. Only a matter of months before the N.E.W.T.s are here," she smiled then headed for the Great Hall doors. The moment she was gone, Ron leaned over the table and began talking in a whisper.   
  
"I'm don't know about this, Harry. Hermione's never kept anything from us before," he stated nervously.   
  
"Yes she has, Ron. Her time turner in 3rd year. But I'm sure whatever it is, she knows what she's doing," for some reason, Harry trusted Hermione more than he had before. The feeling came back again, but he pushed it down, knowing full well what it was.   
  
"Alright, Harry. But if she doesn't tell us soon, I'll find out for myself," and that was all that was said on the matter. Ron stuffed a forkful of eggs into his mouth and Harry continued on the waffle he had been eating before Blasie had walked over. To his surprise, it was still hot.  
  
~*~  
  
"Harry! Ron!" Hermione burst through the Gryffindor common room later that evening. A few studying students cast her hateful glances, but she took no notice.   
  
"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry asked, coming down the boys' staircase.   
  
"Just fine. Where's Ron?"   
  
"Right here. Everything alright?" Ron appeared at the bottom of the boys' stairs beside Harry.   
  
"Fine. I need to show you something," she said quickly, turning to go back out the portrait. The boys looked at each other, but thought better against disobeying their bushy haired friend.   
  
When they stepped out of the portrait hole, Hermione was already a good twenty steps ahead. Their long legs took one step for her two, so they caught her quickly.   
  
"I never thought I would be right on this," she mumbled, "I actually hoped I was wrong," she continued. Harry and Ron shared another look and kept quiet. A few turns later, Harry knew where they were going. Hermione's sanctuary: the library.   
  
They reached the large oak doors and Hermione turned and pushed the door open with her backside. The boys followed her in and over to a table out of earshot in the Charms section.   
  
"This is big," she kept mumbling. Ron reached out and grabbed one of Hermione's hands that was rummaging through her bag. She stopped and smiled at him. This small action made Harry's stomach turn in jealousy.   
  
"Mione," Harry broke the silence, "What's going on?" She took a breath, signaling a long story was coming on.   
  
"Ok, Harry, do you remember on the train, when I asked to see your picture of Sirius?" he nodded. "Well, a few minutes before that, Blasie Zabini was leaning against the door frame. There was something about him that looked familiar, but I couldn't place it. But I found it in your photo. Mind you, I needed proof. So I went looking in Blasie's file. It said he had no registered biological father, but he did have a step father. His mother was never married before his current father, but by the dates in the file, his mother was three weeks pregnant when she married his dad." She stopped, waiting for a signal that they understood.   
  
"What does this have to do with anything?" Ron asked.  
  
"Everything. His mother attended Hogwarts, she was in Slytherin. She came from a pureblood family, as did his biological father. Here, look," she pulled a picture of Blasie from her bag and set it on the table. It had to have been taken that year, he looked the same. He was talking with Draco Malfoy about something. His hair fell into his face and he brushed it away with a graceful wave of his hand.   
  
"I don't see what you're getting at, Hermione," Harry stated, pushing the picture over so Ron could look at it.   
  
"Really look at him, Harry. Don't you see it? He's the spitting image of Sirius." 


	3. Chapter 2

"Really look at him, Harry. Don't you see it? He's the spitting image of Sirius."  
  
Harry felt like laughing. Sirius, be the father of Blasie Zabini? What a ludicrous idea! He pulled the photo from Ron and studied Blasie's face, looking for the slightest thing that would prove Hermione wrong.   
  
But he couldn't see anything. He looked harder. Still nothing. The high cheekbones, the square jaw, the dark curly hair, it was all Sirius. Harry pulled his picture of Sirius from his pocket and held the two side by side. His breath was stuck in his throat. The only physical difference was Blasie's eyes. They were bright blue, probably inherited from his mother.   
  
"Harry, there's no way of knowing for sure, but I don't think it's a coincidence," Hermione's soft voice rang through his head. She was wrong; she had to be. Sirius would have told him.   
  
Unless he didn't know. Sirius admitted to being a ladies man in his school days, was it possible that a one night stand got out of control?   
  
"Harry, you alright mate?" it was Ron's voice that time.   
  
"You're wrong. You have to be," Harry breathed, crunching the pictures in his hands. He let them fall onto the table. But with the spell on his picture of Sirius, it folded itself back out, in perfect condition.   
  
"I'm so sorry, Harry," Hermione soothed, placing her hand over his. But even with her warm, small hand on his, he still felt like he was going to be sick.   
  
He needed his own proof. An eyewitness; someone that knew Sirius in his school days. Remus Lupin should be at the Grimallud Place. He would try him.   
  
In a flurry of robes, Harry sprang from his seat and took off running to the door.  
  
~*~  
  
"Remus! Remus!" Harry screamed into the fireplace in the Room of Requirement. Normal floo did not work in Hogwarts, but because of the room's special power to give the occupants anything they wanted, Harry was able to connect to the fire place at Grimullad Place.   
  
"Harry? What are you doing?" Remus Lupin came into the kitchen looking around for his best friend's son.   
  
"Here, Remus," Harry called. Remus knelt in front of the fire on his hands and knees.  
  
"Is everything alright?" he asked hurriedly.  
  
"Sort of. It's nothing with Voldemort or the Order, but it's important," Harry could see the werewolf's shoulders slouch a little, signaling that he was relieved.   
  
"Go on then, Harry. But you better make it fast, you don't want somebody tracing this," he nodded for Harry to start.   
  
"Did Sirius have a girlfriend in 7th year?" the pain in his knees was growing, but he didn't seem to notice.   
  
"Sirius had a few girlfriends. Why?" Remus shifted so he was sitting Indian style on the rug. Harry launched into Hermione's theory about Blasie Zabini. He was sure that his legs were going to fall of at the knee when he got out of there, but he continued.   
  
"Harry, I don't know what to say," Remus confessed.   
  
"Anything, please," he begged.   
  
"Sirius never said anything about being a father, but then again, she could have never told him," he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to pull out any memory that could assist Harry.   
  
"Isn't there anything?" Harry continued to plead.  
  
"I'm sorry Harry," Remus said finally.  
  
"It's fine, I guess. See you at Christmas," and with those final words, he pulled his head out of the green flames.  
  
There had to be someone else, anyone that knew Sirius in his 7th year. Of coarse, why didn't he think of it before! Snape knew him, even if they did despise each other. Harry tried to stand, but his legs gave under his weight.   
  
"I hate floo," he grumbled, flexing his legs to get feeling back in them. He looked around for a clock. One appeared on the wall in front of him as if it had been there the whole time. It read 9:07. It would be to late to see Snape, but he needed more proof. He stood slowly, making sure his legs could hold him. They wobbled for a second, but supported him easily enough. Thinking quickly, Harry slipped out of the door and pulled a familiar piece of parchment out of his pocket.   
  
"I seemly swear I am up to no good," he recited. Lines began to appear on the parchment, creating a map of Hogwarts. His eyes glanced all over the castle until they rested on a dot named Blasie Zabini. He was on his was back from the library. If Harry hurried, he catch him before he got to the dungeons. "Mischief managed."   
  
Walking quickly, he turned corner after corner, the Marauders map image still in his mind. He stopped suddenly, peering around the corner of the stone wall. Blasie was walking by himself, his eyes focused on a piece of parchment held in his hand. Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He ran a hand through his already messy hair and turned the corner, acting as if he was just out for a stroll.  
  
"Blasie," Harry greeted, passing by the boy he wanted more than anything to talk to.   
  
"Potter. Out a little late for a walk, eh?" he stopped and turned so he was facing Harry, pushing the parchment he was looking at into his bag that hung loosely on his shoulder.   
  
"What about you?" Harry asked in return. He was desperate for anything that would start a conversation.   
  
"Heading for my common room. You?"   
  
"Same. How's your Quidditch game going?"   
  
"Good, actually. I think we may give Gryffindor a run for the Cup this year," Blasie smirk reminded Harry so much of Sirius. Reaching into his pocket, he ran a finger over his godfather's picture.   
  
"We'll see about that," he smirked in return to Blasie's. An idea ran through his head at that moment. It would be a small gesture, most likely not noticed. "Must be off then, Blasie," he said, nodding a goodbye and walking in the direction he was heading earlier.   
  
"See you later, Potter," Blasie nodded at Harry and began walking in his original direction also.   
  
Carefully, Harry pulled out the picture of Sirius, looked at it for a split second, then tossed it gently in Blasie's path. He continued walking, turning once to see if Blasie had seen the photo. He had. He looked at it for a minute on the ground before bending and picking it up.   
  
"Potter!" he called. Harry stopped in his tracks, pretending to be annoyed.   
  
"What, Zabini?" he walked forward up to the place Blasie was standing, looking at the photo.   
  
"You dropped this," he said, but made no move to give it back.  
  
"Thanks," Harry said, letting Blasie study it.  
  
"Is this… who… is this?" he managed to get out, not taking his eyes of the picture.   
  
"My godfather," Harry answered simply.   
  
"He looks like me," Blasie replied. Harry pretended to be slightly surprised. He leaned over to look at the photo, then back at Blasie.   
  
"He does, doesn't he?" Blasie nodded dumbly. "What do your parents look like?"   
  
"Both have blonde hair. I got my mum's eyes," he explained, glancing up at Harry then back down.   
  
"Odd. You want me to see if I can find a family tree, see if you are related to him?" Blasie nodded again, handing the picture back to Harry.   
  
"That would be cool. I'll see you around, Harry," he spun on his heal and was out of sight within seconds.   
  
Harry began mentally going over ways to tell Blasie what he knew. While doing this, he realized that for the first time, Blasie had called him Harry. 


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: I own nothing but the plot. That is all.   
  
"Blasie knows," Harry said the next day, plopping down on the couch beside Hermione. Ron was on her other side. She closed the book that was perched in her lap and looked up at him.   
  
"Are you ok with it? I mean, I'm really sorry I told you like I did, but I wanted you to know as soon as possible," she explained, fiddling with her hands in her lap. Harry reached out and took her small hands under his. The same filling came back, but it was to strong to push down.   
  
"I'm glad you told me, Mione. Even if you weren't sure, I'm still happy you told me," he smiled at her, and she replied with her own smile. Ron reached over Hermione and patted Harry on the back.  
  
"I'm glad your happy," he said. Suddenly, he got a nagging in the back of his mind, wishing that Ron wasn't there. That it was just him and Hermione.   
  
"Thanks," he replied.   
  
"So what did you tell him?" Hermione asked, breaking the silence that had settled.   
  
"Nothing really. I flooed Remus, he said Sirius never told him about getting any of his girlfriends pregnant. I ran into Blasie in the hallway on my way back. I dropped the photo of Sirius in his path and he picked it up and looked at it. I told him I would look for a family tree or something, see if they were related," when he finished, Hermione face was shining with glee.   
  
"Brilliant, Harry!" she flung her arms around him in a quick hug before getting up and pacing the common room. "Now he knows we don't know, we just suspect. He will most likely look into it himself. Now the question is, should we let him find out? Or, should we get to him before he has time to do any research himself," she stopped pacing and looked at her best friends before she began pacing again. It had seemed to the two boys that she was going to ask their opinion, but started her thinking again. Same old Hermione, Harry  
  
thought.  
  
"Harry, you said you asked Remus? Well, is there anyone else we could ask? We'll need resources if we're going to convinse everyone," she stopped again, but his times sat in her place between Ron and Harry.  
  
"What about Snape? He went to school with Sirius didn't he?" Ron took the thought right out of Harry's mind.  
  
"Good, Ron," Hermione phrased, resting her hand on his knee.   
  
"Any of the teachers could tell you, really. Most of them were teaching here during that time," Harry spoke up.  
  
"Yes, and by what I came up with, the child was concived at the end of the mother's 7th year."   
  
"So it wasn't that long ago. I mean, Dumbledore's been alive for over a hunderd years," Ron put in.   
  
"Do you think we should go to him first?" Hermione glanced at Harry.  
  
"I guess. No sense in getting Snape all worked up for nothing if we can just go to Dumbledore," he reasoned.  
  
"Very true. But Harry, I think we should be careful about this. No telling what people may do if they think Blasie is the son of a murder," Hermione bit her bottom lip, awaiting his reply.   
  
"Sure. But, its doesn't really matter much. Sirius is dead," he answered. He felt a lump form in his throat. I won't go back to how I was before, he told himself.   
  
"Yes," she responed gently, "Well, his name was never cleared," she said as if it explained everything. The two boys nodded silently.  
  
"I-I think we should let him figure it out," Ron said suddenly.   
  
"For once in my life, Ron, I think you're right," Hermione agreed. 


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: see past chappies, I get tired of writing it over and over  
  
It had been a little over one week since the trio had decided to let Blasie figure out what they already knew on his own. Harry was beginning to think that maybe Blasie had thought it to be some joke and not thought on the photo any more than that few moments in the hallway.   
  
"Ron, honestly, you eat like a Hippogriff. Chew and swallow!" Hermione chided Ron as they all sat down for supper in the great hall.   
  
"Sorry, Mione," he said after he swallowed the lump of food in his mouth.   
  
"Did either of you work on your essay about dragon heartstring for Snape yet?" Hermione asked, neatly cutting her meat into pieces.  
  
Harry and Ron exchanged nervous glances, then Harry cleared his throat.   
  
"Well Mione, you know how we've been busy training for Quidditch and have had a lot of other stuff to do…" he trailed off, trying his best to give her a sad look. She sighed, and set down her fork and knife.   
  
"I've told you that Quidditch is no excuse. I'm Head Girl this year and I'm sorry but I haven't the time to do all of your work for you. You've both got to put in a lot more this year if you want to get a good amount of NEWTs."   
  
"We know," Ron sighed and shoved a roll into his mouth.   
  
"Good. Now I need to go to the library, I'll se you later on. Oh and Harry," she looked closely at him and bit her bottom lip, "you might want to consider running into Blasie again. Just to see how things are moving with him." She gathered he books and left.   
  
"Umm, Ron?" Harry asked a few moments later.   
  
"Yeah?" Ron asked in return.   
  
"What do you think of Hermione?" Harry asked quietly as he moved food around on his plate.   
  
"What do I think of her? Well, sometimes she's a right lunatic. She's completely obsessed with her books and I wouldn't be surprised if she started sleeping in the library. But other than that, I'd say she's a down right great friend." He took a breath and looked back at Harry. "Why?"  
  
"I was just… thinking," Harry replied, avoiding eye contact with his best mate.   
  
Ron seemed to ponder this, then shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating anything he could reach.  
  
"Blasie!" Harry called, running after the raven haired young man.   
  
"Potter, what are you doing?" Blasie asked as Harry stopped in front of him, trying to catch his breath.   
  
"I was-- just wondering--,"   
  
"Potter, breathe," Blasie said, clapping Harry on the back.   
  
"Right," he took a few deep breaths then continued on what he was saying. "I was just wondering if you had given anymore thought to that photo of mine."   
  
Blasie looked as though he were going to make a rude comment, but then changed his mind. He looked around nervously for a second before answering.   
  
"I sent a letter to my parents. My dad wrote back saying that he didn't know what to make of it. Said he'd talk to my mum about it later and not to worry about it."   
  
"Oh," was all Harry managed to say. "Well, I'll keep on the look-out for you then."   
  
"Sure, and Potter, you're in awful shape for a Seeker," and with that final insult, he turned and was back on his way.  
  
"She's mental Harry, I'm tellin ya. I went to go ask her for help on that essay, you know? And she got all shirty with me and told me to leave. I think she's all bent over Mafloy and him being himself all the time," Ron rambled about Hermione as he and Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room, trying to finish their extensive amounts of homework.  
  
"Well what did you expect him to do? Walk in their common room and ask her if she would like some tea and crumpets?" Harry replied. Ron sighed at this and set down his quill.   
  
"No, its just… I'm worried what Malfoy might try on her. I mean, they're all alone in that common room and he's got all that Dark magic and such," Ron continued to ramble but Harry wasn't listening anymore.  
  
He hadn't thought about it for a long while, but Ron was right. Hermione was alone with Malfoy a lot and she wasn't the little mousy girl she was before. She was definitely the brightest witch of her age, but when it came to brute strength, she wasn't hardly as qualified.   
  
Harry stood suddenly, forgetting about his work and his rambling best friend. In a rush, he ran out of the Gryffindor common room and took a sharp right, racing to where Hermione had told him the Head common room was located. It was only 7 o'clock, he had plenty of time before he had to worry about Filch. He arrived at a painting of a snoozing lion on a rock just a few moments after he had left the common room. But a new problem dawned on him. Hermione may have told him where the common room was, but she had never uttered the password to him or Ron.   
  
"No!" Harry cried, banging his fist on the wall beside the portrait door. The lion peeked one eye open and growled at Harry before falling back asleep. "Hey, hey, wake up!" he yelled at the lion.   
  
Apparently the lion hadn't been in a very good mood before Harry arrived so his only reply was to lift up his large head a bare his giant teeth in Harry's direction.   
  
"Please? I'll find you a mouse to play with! I'll umm… please?" he finished weakly.   
  
It just so happened that at that very moment, Hermione decided to visit her two best friends in the Gryffindor common room. The painting of the lion swung open and smacked poor Harry in the face.   
  
"Owww…." he moaned as he sat up off the floor.  
  
"Harry! Oh Harry, are you all right?" Hermione asked as she bent down beside him.   
  
"Yeah," he mumbled, holding his throbbing nose.   
  
"Harry, I'm so sorry! I didn't know you were there and when I opened the portrait I was mad at Malfoy so I pushed it to hard! I had no idea you were there!" she apologized as she helped him up.   
  
"I'm fine, really Mione," he insisted as she pulled his hand away from his nose.   
  
"No you're bleeding," Hermione stated, showing him the blood on his hand.   
  
"I'll be fine. A little nose bleed never killed anyone."  
  
"Well actually I read that a small nose bleed can lead to sever injury if left unattended to," she corrected. Harry just shook his head and smiled at her.   
  
"If I can take Voldemort, I think I can survive a nose bleed," he assured her.   
  
"Well, if you insist," Hermione gave in and took off walking in the direction of the Gryffindor common room.   
  
"So much for help," Harry mumbled as he caught up with Hermione. 


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: I'm terribly sorry about the late update. But I had to find a way for Harry to have a little slip up. hehe... I know this chapter doesn't have much to do with Blasie, but the next one will. Promise! Oh and I still don't own any of this.   
  
P.S. It has been comfirmed by The Great J.K. Rowling that Blasie is a boy. I just thought I'd mention that.

"Harry, you shouldn't have made her mad."  
  
"I didn't make her mad, Ron."  
  
"Then what did you do?"  
  
"Nothing, Ron. Harry was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."  
  
"Ohhhh. Then who made you mad?"  
  
"Malfoy."  
  
"Ha! See Harry, I told you."  
  
"That's why I went to check on her, Ron!"  
  
"Check on me?" Hermione's eyes were on fire and her hands were placed on her small hips. They were back in the Gryffindor common room, sitting in their usual places around the fire.   
  
"Well… Ron got to thinking that maybe you would need some help. You know, handling Malfoy and all," Harry admitted, looking at an interesting spot on his shoe.  
  
"Harry James Potter!" he knew he was in for it now. "I was by your side when you took on Voldemort, I've taken my share of Death Eaters, I've even managed to keep on top of all my school work during that whole thing and you think I need protecting?"  
  
Harry gulped and looked to Ron for support. But all Ron could do was shrug at his friend and sink further into the cushions of his chair.  
  
"Harry I asked you something!" Hermione screeched.   
  
"Well--I," he studdered.   
  
"I was talking, Harry! Don't interrupt!" she screamed. Ron snorted but quickly recoiled back in his chair from the look Hermione gave him.  
  
"Look Hermione, we were worried about you. You're our friend and I love you." Harry soothed. Hermione's eyes became round with surprise. She gulped loudly and took a deep breath. Harry suddenly realized what he had said, and prayed Ron didn't catch his slip up.   
  
"Well… I-- I thank you. You guys are really great but I… I have to be going." She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. Before either boy could say anything, she rushed out of the common room.   
  
"Harry…?" Ron turned his gaze to his best friend.   
  
"Yes, Ron?"   
  
"I know that we love Hermione. I mean, she is our best friend and all but-- I couldn't help but notice how you slipped a love confession in to that sentence."   
  
Harry's shoulders sagged. The one time he hoped Ron's attention span would run out, was the one time where he was really focusing. What was he going to say? Lie? That may work, but seven year's of friendship did have its disadvantages. Ron would see through any lie Harry told him if he were really paying attention.   
  
"I know, Ron. I really buggered this up didn't I?" Harry asked sinking into a near by chair.   
  
"You beyond buggered this, Harry. I mean, this is just bloody horrible!"  
  
"Ron-"  
  
"That was probably the worst way to tell her you know."  
  
"Ron-"  
  
"Roses and chocolate are good, or at least that's what mum likes…"  
  
"Ron! You're not helping!"   
  
"Oh, sorry," replied a blushing Ron.


End file.
